The story of a five year plan, an impulse buy, and two city folks lost (then found) in the country.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

I Think I Can Live Here

We've been chipping away at the numerous tasks to be done inside the house over the last couple of weeks. Paint is pretty much done (except for dealing with the painter...long story). We spent several hours the other evening with my folks cleaning up the floors in preparation for the concrete sealer guy to come do a final cleaning and final sealing. When I say "clean up the floors" I really mean rip up all of the shredded "ram board" (read: thick construction paper) that was originally placed on the slab about 3 months ago. Once most of that was pulled up and piled on the porch, we went to work with brooms, shop-vacs, and scrapers to get up the texture and paint over spray. Again, several hours later, the place started to actually look like a home inside...a barren, echoing home, but a home none the less. I could almost picture the roaring wood burning stove, Jenna in the kitchen with pots, pans, rolling pins, etc. scattered all over the 200sq. ft. of counters with a maniacal grin on her face, and me lounging on the couch by the fire with a copy of Lonesome Dove in my hands. We're so close I can smell it.